


Misleading eternity

by BreeTheBee413



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Gen, House Fires, Origanal story, origanal characters - Freeform, twisted ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3890206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreeTheBee413/pseuds/BreeTheBee413
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not what i had expected after being told i'd live forever</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misleading eternity

Misleading Eternity  
This story starts out simple enough, I was a woman in my early twenties, and had been married to my husband for two years when I came down with terminal lung cancer. My husband, being a great science professor at the time, and seemingly desperate to keep me around, had found the ‘perfect solution’, one that would let me live for an eternity. Considering I was so close to being dead, I decided to go along with his plan, even if he never explained exactly what it was. He put me under using methoxypropane, also known as a general anaesthetic, and everything turned dark. Going through with his plan was the worst decision of my life.  
When I woke, everything felt different, something was not right. The world appeared huge; I seemed to be in the room that was our old study. Looking down I could see that my arms and legs where mere nubs, my skin and clothing simple and appearing to be made of rags. Somehow my husband had transferred something as fragile as a soul; mine in particular, into a roughly ten centimeter tall doll. From that point on, I never heard my real name, and was always referred to as Ragdoll. This wasn’t what I had expected, but I had accepted it none the less, after all, this would be better than being dead right? Little did I know that I’d quickly come to dislike this life as a doll, I was also oblivious to the fact that my husband had bigger, ‘better’ plans for this new soul displacing technology he’d developed.  
Unlike I’d expected and hoped, my husband never talked to me after I had woken up, always leaving me alone in his old Study. I soon found myself bored, with not much to do, along with the fact that I didn’t feel comfortable leaving the desk I had been placed on, for I knew it’d be a challenge to get back up, given I was made of fabric and that I had no fingers to grab onto anything.  
After being given about a month to get used to this new, rather unexciting life, something strange happened: my husband started bring more dolls similar to me into the old study, each surprisingly also having someone’s soul trapped inside, each with his or her unique design and personality. I asked around as more started to appear each week, what was my husband up to? Why was he trapping people’s minds in these dolls? Were these people doing it willingly? And why did people keep referring to this room as ‘the room of eternal happiness’? Nobody gave me an answer for a while, they were told to never tell me. Why? What was he hiding? After enough pestering, I eventually got someone to crack; this doll was designed to look like a panda, with the added feature of lavender hair. She had indigo button eyes, along with a black spade on her chest. What this girl told me was unbelievable.  
Apparently my husband had opened a fake psychiatric clinic, in the basement of our home. He’d promise his unhappy/depressed/challenged victims a lifetime of happiness with a procedure he called ‘phycho-cleansing’. Simply just a nice way of saying he was going to take their souls and put them in dolls created with my sewing supplies. I was infuriated! He was tricking people! Abducting them in a sense! On top of that, his promise was fake, everyone around me thought that they would be happy forever after meeting with my husband, when all he’d really done was put us in tiny bodies an trapped us in a small dreary room! There was never even much to entertain ourselves with around there, for many objects were too big to work with given our size and furniture here was beginning to fall apart for this old house, and much of the furniture in this room used to belong to my great grandmother.  
Eventually, I had managed to make a small group of friends out of the hundreds that occupied the small study; the first was Kodah, the panda-esce girl from earlier in my story, followed by a boy that called himself P.T. He was very colorful, for he was covered in splashes of paint, art being his favorite activity. It seemed that everyone here had an odd name, what was odder, was that none of us even remembered our original names.  
My anger towards the person that was once a loving husband grew when I met a friend named Farly. Farly was fairly nice, but it was obvious my husband did not treat him equally to the other dolls for whatever reason. It seemed that he’d purposefully made Farly out of a weak material, causing him to rip easily, Farly now had many stiches all over him, even a couple of bandages for my husband seemed to tire of constantly stitching him up. I soon found more examples of people getting mistreated for no apparent reason, a girl named Grell had spindly, tall legs and arms that made it difficult to support herself, A boy that called himself Eskay had his soul put in a rather feminine looking body that he hadn’t asked for. This was causing them more self-consciousness and dysphoria then they had been dealing with beforehand! That was It! this treatment wasn’t fair to my friends, and I was sure most others didn’t exactly like being stuck in this room and in a tiny plush body. This eternity had to stop before it could get worse.  
My five friends, along with myself, vowed to put an end to my husband’s actions, and to set everyone free. We started by banding all the several clicks of dolls that had formed together, as well as informing the constant onslaught of newcomers to the cause. It took a while to convince some newer people that the doll’s life isn’t what they wanted, for apparently, some actually believed in my husband’s words even after their souls where trapped. It took months to come up with a plan that would work, even with our ever increasing numbers. In the mean time we were able to fix Eskay’s problem involving the dislike of his own body at least. P.T. was more than happy to give Eskay a new paint jobs, and with a bit of help we were even able to cut his rather long hair.  
It took a full year, but finally our plan for escape was finished; now with a 300 dolls to help, said plan was set into action as soon as we were sure my husband would be asleep. Us dolls had separated ourselves into four groups, the first group had the job of picking locks on doors in order to let the rest of us out, the second and third where to find needed supplies. the last group’s job was to spread out in order to keep watch, just in case something went wrong, or if my husband where to be awoken. For all we knew there was the slight possibility that our captor hadn’t gone to bed at all, despite the late hours. Luckily, our plan had gone off without a hitch! After the door to the study had been unlocked, the groups set out to do their respective tasks. Group two acquiring a jug of gasoline from the basement, group three getting access to the matches and lighter in the kitchen, and group one quickly heading to work on picking the lock to our back door while the rest stood watch in various places. Once the back door had been unlocked, every last one of us had headed out. What did you need the gasoline and matches for? One might ask. The answer is simple, we didn’t want to just escape, we wanted our souls to be set free. We wanted revenge!  
Soon, with the combined effort of every doll, along with the use of the gasoline, matches, and our lighter, the old wooden house was set a flame. Soon came screams of agony and severe pain from the man inside, a man that once was normal, and cared for me dearly…not that any of that mattered now. All that mattered was that as the smoke rose, so did our souls, up and up, leaving hundreds fabric bodies behind. As we left our fabric prisons, we sailed to a much more promising eternity in the afterlife.


End file.
